


light me up

by toxica939



Series: into the fire [2]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 00:38:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11242641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: It feels like it takes a long time before the plug snaps into place, his body swallowing it up. He's sweating, shuddering through it. He wants to say something but he can't find words.So he takes it, because there's nothing else to do, because Aaron told him to.





	light me up

Robert had gone to bed in a foul mood; sniping at everyone, all teeth and front.

Aaron had let him go, Robert doesn't even remember him coming to bed.

He's been on edge for days; work is a nightmare, Liv never gives them five minutes peace. He knows something inside him has been winding tighter every day, knows Aaron's been keeping his distance because something's got to give.

Robert's still never figured out how to turn his moods on himself, hates that Aaron's putting up with so much for him.

He doesn't blame Aaron for letting him be.

Which is why it's a surprise to wake up on his belly, two of Aaron's fingers rubbing wet and cold down the crack of his arse.

He's already hard, head spinning, because Aaron doesn't do this. Aaron negotiates, Aaron checks and double checks and checks again. He doesn't do this.

Robert's split open on two fingers before he can get a word out, gasping into the pillows. He loves the way it feels, the out of control experience of opening himself up while his body tries to rebel against it; forcing himself to relax.

Aaron gets him wet quickly, quick pumps of thick fingers, lube squelching in a way that makes Robert's face heat. Aaron scissors his fingers wide, lets Robert feel every empty space inside himself, all the places he needs Aaron to fill him up.

It makes his chest echo, heart beating Aaron's name.

He needs this, suddenly, and with a ferocity that shakes him. He needs Aaron to take control, to fuck him through the mattress so there's no room in his head for anything but this. He needs it now.

He's waiting for Aaron's dick, but patiently, because they've done this enough times now that he knows Aaron's driving today.

The last thing he's expecting to feel is something hard and unyielding press against him when Aaron tugs his fingers free.

It's small where it's nudging against him, but he knows it gets thicker.

He knows what it is.

Aaron doesn't let him scramble, big hand clamping down over the back of Robert's neck, body weight holding him down to the bed, rough whisper in his ear as Aaron starts twisting it inside. “Take it,” he says, fingers biting into Robert's neck; a sting of pain to stop him floating away.

Aaron always knows what he needs.

Robert tries to breathe through it. He's had it inside once before, knows the widest part is going to make his eyes water, knows it'll be worth it.

It feels like it takes a long time before the plug snaps into place, his body swallowing it up. He's sweating, shuddering through it. He wants to say something but he can't find words.

So he takes it, because there's nothing else to do, because Aaron told him to.

Aaron's weight lifts once it's inside, leaves Robert floundering, anchorless.

“What?” he asks. His voice is shot already. He doesn't even remember shouting.

There's a rough hand rubbing up the back of Robert's leg, a gentle squeeze to the tight muscle there.

“There's a load of washing needs doing when you're ready,” Aaron says, as though Robert isn't in bits across the bed, arse throbbing around hard plastic.

Robert pushes up on to his forearms, has to close his eyes as sensation ripples through him at the change in angle. He manages pull a face at Aaron. “Are you kidding? You're going to leave me like this?”

He's so hard he can barely _think_.

Aaron's eyes are kind. “Liv's already left, I'll put some coffee on.”

And then he just _disappears_. Swans out the fucking door like it's any normal Saturday morning, like the planets haven't fucking shifted.

Robert sinks back into the bed with a long groan. The vibration doesn't help so he shuts up.

It's not like they've never played this sort of game before, they've never exactly been _insert tab A into slot B and done_ sorts of blokes but Robert did not see this coming.

It had taken him weeks to get the courage up to ask Aaron to use him just a little bit and okay, they've been pushing the boundaries of that ever so lightly over the last few months but. How does Aaron always know? How does he always give Robert exactly what he doesn't know to ask for?

How is he supposed to survive this?

:::

He makes it down the stairs. Barely.

Every step jostles the plastic inside him against his prostate, makes his muscles lock up and his skin prickle.

He'd thrown on shorts and a t shirt when he dragged himself out of bed but he's already well on his way to sweating through them.

Aaron's over by the coffee machine. He grins brightly when he sees Robert, lifts a cup in greeting. “If you stick the washing on, I'll sort breakfast,” he offers.

It's so casual, so normal, that for a second Robert thinks Aaron's forgotten.

His only tell is the way Aaron's gaze trips down to Robert's dick, fat and heavy between his thighs. It's straining obviously at his underwear, dark stain around the head. Every time Robert fucking moves he leaks. It makes his face flame to watch Aaron watching him.

Still, if this is the way Aaron wants to play it, this is the way it's going to be. That's how this works.

Robert puts the washing on; sorts darks from whites, measures out fabric softener and sets the machine going – all through a sex haze that's making his vision swim.

He feels light headed, desperate in a vaguely aching sort of way. He can feel something building.

Aaron's set the table for breakfast and Robert works along side him to butter toast and slice melon.

It's bearable, in a weird sort of way, if he focuses on something else.

At least until Aaron ushers him into a seat at the table.

That changes things.

It forces the plug deeper, makes his eyes roll in his head. He can feel himself wavering in his seat, has to spread his palms wide against the cool surface of the table, anything to ground him. He's slipping.

There's hand in his hair, Aaron standing over him. “Alright?”

Robert takes shallow breaths, tries not to move. He can do this. For Aaron. For himself.

“Yeah.” God he sounds fucking _wrecked_.

Aaron watches him with careful eyes, strokes a gentle thumb down Robert's cheek. “Stay with me, yeah?”

Robert nods. He can do this. He _wants_ to do this.

They eat quickly, Aaron keeping up an uncharacteristically cheerful stream of chatter. Robert knows what he's doing; distracting, helping, generous to a fault.

It helps settle Robert back into his own bones, helps him breathe.

:::

Aaron helps him sort the washing when it's done. Some for the dryer, some for the line outside.

Then he backs Robert up against the wall like he can't help himself, kisses his way into Robert's mouth, hands tight on Robert's hips.

It's nice to know he's not the only one this is getting to, Robert knows exactly what Aaron looks like when his control is splintering.

They kiss for a long time. Aaron's hips grinding lazy against Robert's aching dick.

Aaron only pulls away when Robert starts to whimper, doesn't kiss him through it like he normally would.

“Come on,” Aaron says, wiping his beard dry with the back of his hand. “We need to clean the kitchen up.”

He leaves Robert where he put him.

Robert turns his hot cheek against the wall, pants there for a minute, tries to gather himself back together. It's getting harder to manage.

:::

They stand side by side at the sink, Robert fumbling glasses in hot, soapy water while Aaron dries.

Robert doesn't know why they're not using the dishwasher.

He feels like he's coming unravelled.

He lets his erection press against the cabinet under the sink, shuts his eyes against the sensation, arse tightening on the plug. Everything is spiralling, pulse rippling outward through his body.

“Aaron,” he says, before he can help himself.

Aaron catches his elbow, steadying. “What?”

Robert shakes his head, doesn't dare open his eyes. He feels like he could come if he thought hard enough about it, without Aaron laying another finger on him. He feels like it would hurt.

“Please,” he says. “I need.”

Aaron reels him in, as though those were the magic words; hands palming Robert's jaw, thumbs stroking at his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Robert meets his eyes, swims in blue until he can't see anything else. “I know what you need,” Aaron tells him. “You trust me to get you there?”

Robert nods. He's drifting, but he'd trust Aaron with anything.

“Right, come on then.”

:::

Aaron strips his t shirt over his head and settles down into the sofa; puts Robert on his knees between wide spread thighs.

Robert kneels there, sinks into the burn in his own thighs because it rocks the plug just right to have him gasping. It's like he's been getting slow fucked for hours and the chance to speed things up a bit is too tempting to turn down.

Aaron lifts his hips, gets his shorts down around his thighs, fists his dick close enough that Robert can smell him.

He's beautiful; pale skin shifting over muscle. It's the body of someone who grafts for a living, skin thin over sharp hipbones.

Robert licks his lips. He knows what he must look like, shivering on his knees and aching for it. He doesn't care.

Aaron sets a thumb to the base of his dick, presses it down so it's angled towards Robert.

Robert hesitates, waits.

“Go on,” Aaron says. There's a tremble in his voice that tells Robert he's not alone, they're both in this too deep. Going to have to keep each other afloat, same as always.

He takes Aaron deep right away, savouring the taste on the way down. This isn't amateur hour, Aaron wants his dick sucked and Robert knows how to do it. He'll save showing off for sometime when his brain isn't leaking into his pants.

Aaron slides a hand into Robert's hair, fingers curling. It's enough of a handhold that Robert isn't completely in control of his own rhythm any more, has to let Aaron set the pace.

There's a sort of calm that falls over him when they're like this. When he's Aaron's for the taking. When Aaron's _taking_.

Robert settles into it. Tries to ignore the clench of his hole around the plug, the way it's spiking heat through him, making everything sharper, deeper. He relaxes his throat as much as he can, hollows his cheeks to hear Aaron hiss.

He's content here, in a way he rarely feels; settled properly into his skin.

He's almost lost to it when Aaron tugs him back. He uses the fist in Robert's hair to do it, other hand coming up to cradle Robert's chin.

It's like the earth shifting under him, reality crashing in. He pants over the head of Aaron's dick. It's so close, he doesn't understand.

“Still with me?” Aaron asks.

Robert blinks until he can answer _yes_ honestly. It's part of the deal, they can't lie like this.

Aaron strokes a thumb over Robert's bottom lip, where it's hot and swollen. “I wish you could see yourself. So good for me.”

Robert has to close his eyes against the praise. It doesn't sit right even though it makes his heart sing.

“What do you want?” Aaron asks.

“You,” no hesitation.

It gets him a half smile and a shake of Aaron's head. “Do you want me to come in your mouth?' Aaron asks, thumb dipping in to slip over Robert's tongue. “Or do you want to get fucked?”

The thought shudders through him, body clamping down. It makes his hips jerks out of his control.

He's been held open and wanting for what feels like forever. Nothing but body temperature plastic turning his insides molten. The idea of replacing that with Aaron is almost too much; forces out words he'd normally keep bitten back.

“You,” he says again. “Fuck me. You, please. It's not enough, Aaron, it's not-”

Aaron's thumb presses over both his lips suddenly, hushing him quiet. Aaron holds eye contact, draws it out. There's need clawing at Robert's belly, bubbling up. He knows he's on the verge of losing it, is trusting Aaron to keep him together.

It feels like flying. Like exactly who he's supposed to be, and nothing like him at all. It's dizzying.

“Come here,” Aaron says, a harsh exhale; and then he's dragging Robert over his lap.

Robert slings a leg over, tries not to wince as the plug shifts inside him. He settles into Aaron's lap, dicks pressing tantalisingly against each other, making them gasp.

Between them they get Robert's underwear down and his t shirt off. He presses his sweaty chest to Aaron's. His nipples tingle every time he breathes and he could probably come like this – strung out in Aaron's arms doing nothing but breathing, he's that far gone.

Aaron gets a hand on the base of the plug, taps at it a couple of times to make Robert grunt. It doesn't really feel good any more, it's more of an ache in his lower belly. Too much and not enough. Not Aaron.

He almost comes when Aaron starts twisting it free, body clinging. He's been holding it in for so long he doesn't know if he can remember how to let it go. He has to bite down on Aaron's shoulder to ride it out, the buzz in his blood mellowing to white noise.

There's a wet noise as it slips free, trail of lube oozing down over his balls. It shouldn't feel good but it does; a reminder of how open and empty he is.

He doesn't realise he's begging until Aaron shushes him again.

Aaron fills him up with one thrust, none of the usual stuttering burn and stretch. It's like being shot through with fire, nerve endings lighting up. Aaron taking up space inside Robert didn't even know was there.

The satisfaction and finally being filled up just right makes his breath catch.

It's never as simple as a fuck when Robert's out of his mind like this. He feels Aaron everywhere – arse, head, chest cavity. It's more than love making, it's all encompassing; should be suffocating but he just feels free.

Robert clings to him, mouth open against Aaron's shoulder. He hasn't got the coordination left to contribute much, just tries to hold still enough that Aaron can thrust up into him; perfect rhythm forcing air from his lungs. Punched out little whimpers, moans.

Aaron sets a punishing rhythm, hold Robert's hips still so he has no choice but to feel every inch of him.

Aaron comes first, like he's the one who's been tortured all morning. Robert rides him through it, follows him over the edge almost like an after thought; makes a mess of both their chests, belly clenching in pulses.

Aaron draws him back down the earth after. With gentle hands across his back, lips pressing kisses across his temple, down the line of his jaw.

Robert's melting, bones gone liquid.

He realises he hasn't thought about anything other than this all morning, everything's just fallen away.

Aaron always knows.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> join me on tumblr, i'm vckaarrob


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